My Favorite Memory

A little story about my daddy. 12/12/51-09/06/04

H. Sunshine
Sep 6, 2018 · 5 min read

Wow, fourteen years. I can hardly believe it. I was eleven when my dad died of pancreatic cancer. HEAVY STUFF over here today. It was the first tragedy of my life, I wish it were the last. It’s amazing how much time has passed. It’s amazing how I will only have a child’s view of my father. There isn’t a memory I have where he isn’t the greatest dad on the planet. Bigger, faster, smarter, than everyone else’s dad- the worlds greatest super hero that the world never knew. I had the honor to be his flesh and blood. He was the strongest man I’ve ever met- and men.. I have met quite a few.

My dad was pretty cool. He was a good guy, not just a good father or christian; genuinely, purely, he was a good guy. From stories I’ve heard from others and himself- faded memories, continuing to fade- he wasn’t always the best good guy. Like many, with age and wisdom he slowly grew into the most amazing person anyone would ever meet.

It was cute how many people loved him… like, adored him. Why? He smiled all the time, even when things weren’t going perfectly smooth, he never took a hiccup in a plan as a failure or too seriously. He had the most interesting facts to open a conversation about just about anything. He could tell a story so well you wouldn’t even realize that 2 hours had gone by.

I remember all of those times I was swept away with his stories and the next thing I knew I was a teenage boy sitting in a small apartment in Massachusetts listening to the late night radio; or I had just received a new pair of shoes from my mom’s beau that would allow me to walk on water (they were clogs, I believed my dad really was able to walk on water.); or I was in this brand new brown leather jacket meeting up with girls in the middle of the night hitchhiking to make my way to them, when suddenly a chain-link fence came out of nowhere causing me to fall into the mud like a rag doll covering me and my brand new leather jacket because I was running toward or away from something. I can’t remember that part.

We used to read stories before bed. Tuck Everlasting was the last story I read with my dad; we never finished it. I cry every time I read it in full or see the movie. (If you are unfamiliar with the story you’re missing the irony; the fact, that the last book I read with my dad was about a man that lives forever.) That was just one of the many things he left unfinished; but we will always have evening prayers and bed time stories, reserved for each other. Those moments are frozen in time and stored in my glass case of perfect memories.

He was teaching me how to speak with a larger vocabulary; he had an impressive vocabulary, the best of anyone I’ve ever known. My vocabulary still sucks (my dad’s least favorite word). I chuckled too hard when I wrote that, knowing if he can read this somewhere how he would correct me and tell me to find a better word, that the word “sucks" is disgusting.

Our shared interest was always in literature and music. Some of my best childhood memories are driving alone with my dad in his Mazda Protege, listening to the most bubblegum pop you can imagine or- better- listening to sweet dreams by the Eurythmics on repeat (one of his all time favorite songs) or singing Christmas carols together. I have amazing memories to carry with me for the rest of my life. I know I was so loved and that is all anyone can truly ask for.

My favorite memory is about 2 weeks before my dad died. It was the last few days of summer, I was yet to be a sixth grader, and a continually-growing-more-awkward preteen. We laid down in his bed and chatted, I can’t exactly remember the conversation, not that it truly matters; the feeling of the memory is what stays. He told me he was getting tired and I laid with him until he fell asleep. It was so good to have him home! He was in and out of the hospital constantly those days, he was becoming worse for the wear; although, I never thought it was possible to lose my super hero and didn’t notice my hero growing weak from his kryptonite. Cancer is abhorrent.

He fell asleep and I noticed the rain falling from the sky on a hot August day, the rain was exactly what I needed. For the longest time this rain storm felt like the last time I was ever truly going to hold happiness in myself.

See, my favorite memory of my dad is when I was alone and free and he was still there. He was still around in this physical realm.

I danced in the rain, it was my last taste of innocent freedom. It was the last time I can remember being a child, completely unburdened from the pain of grief or fear of being abandoned by someone. I was safe and free. I began to sing a song I made up on the spot about the rain, “the healing rain”. I sang so loud and I blessed this planet with childhood bliss.

I thought maybe I should invite my dad out to dance in the healing rain; yet, in my childhood wisdom, I knew already the healing rain wasn’t for him; it rained for me. I can still feel the contrast of the hot sun beating down and the ice cold rocky mountain rain pouring down my hair, clothes and skin. I can still feel the uninhibited excitement of that moment. I was whole and complete in that moment. I thought that feeling would last for forever; it didn’t. Luckily no feeling lasts forever.

I realized only now why that memory is my favorite. My dad didn’t live in my life for very long but he taught me the best lessons I will ever learn. He taught me that no matter how horrible things are, there is always a reason to smile. He taught me to appreciate everyone in my life for as long as possible. He taught me that after every storm the sun has to shine again, and sometimes the storm is the reason to be happy.

In loving memory, I remember my dad today. I will hold all of the memories close to my heart and shine with happiness that I had the best dad that ever lived on the planet.

Thanks for reading. It means so much to be able to share these stories with anyone willing to remember with me.

Love you dad,

H. Sunshine.

H. Sunshine

Written by

These are about my life. I've always loved keeping diaries and reading diaries from people, especially in the past. These are for family present and future.

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